


Requiem for a Dying Man

by brahe



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: And of nirnaeth arnoediad, But there's a ton of subtext angst, Canonical Character Death, Elrond reflections on the character of maedhros, It's not overtly angsty, M/M, Very brief mentions of that time Maedhros was tortured
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrond's observations of Maedhros, and his eventual conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requiem for a Dying Man

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this at like one in the morning, not beta read. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so I busted it out, no clue if it's actually good. I am aware that Maedhros is an elf, but the title sounds better with man so let's roll with it. I also have no idea how well this fits with canon but oh well. Creative license and all that.

It had been a long time since either Elrond or his twin feared the Fëanorians. Elros never quite did, really, but over the years Elrond became less guarded until eventually he could admit to himself that he loved Maglor like he imagined he'd love a father. Maedhros, though, still remained an enigma, and because of that Elrond studied him.

The one-handed eldest son of Fëanor was not someone Elrond would want to meet on a battlefield. His hair was the color of fire and his eyes looked like storm clouds, looming and dangerous. His handicap wasn't one at all, for it made him no less intimidating or capable. He was silent, ever watchful, like the moon in the night sky: a presence that couldn't be ignored, but one that wasn't addressed either.

His rapport with Maglor was as good as Elrond expected it to be. They yelled and fought, sometimes often, but Elrond noticed that Maedhros was always careful of his brother's feelings. In that way, Elrond supposed they were similar; both had the best interests of their brother in mind. He'd found out by accident about the five others, and it helped explain the shadow of memory that hung over Maedhros whenever he looked at them.

Often Elrond wondered what Maedhros was like before the Oath. He couldn't have possibly have been so guarded and silent in the happy days of his youth. There was one time, when Maglor had picked up his harp, and Elros and Elrond danced to the music, that Elrond had seen Maedhros's shoulders look weightless, for however brief a moment.

Elrond never had the guts to ask about Maedhros's missing right hand, but Elros did. For the half a second after Elros had asked, Elrond feared the storm that Maedhros seemed to keep very carefully controlled would break. Instead he sat on the ground beside the younger of Elwing's sons and told him, in simplistic and rather vague terms, that once a mean person kept him locked up and his hand was the price he paid for freedom. Elrond wasn't sure he wanted to know more about that particular incidence, but he now had a story with which to explain the extensive scars that criss-crossed the redhead's face and body.

Elrond's general opinion of Maedhros, after months of close examination, was that he was suffering from something Elrond doubted he'd ever understand, and that he was overwhelmingly sad. Elros, who never had much of a filter anyway, once asked Maglor and Maedhros if they'd married or had children. Maglor agreed that yes, he'd been married, but his wife was gone now. Maedhros hadn't said anything, a fact that did not escape Elrond's careful scrutiny.

Several weeks, perhaps months, later, the twins requested a bedtime story, and Elros wanted one about a dragon. Maglor, with a glance at Maedhros who stood watching from the doorway, launched into a tale of valiant warriors and a malicious beast of fire fighting against one another on a great battlefield. When Maglor told them of the untimely demise of the king of the warriors, Maedhros left the doorway with a rustle of robes.

"He's fine," Maglor had assured the boys, but Elrond didn't think so, and it was obvious that Maglor wondered as well.

Elrond finally learned of Fingon the Valiant when he  approached Maglor and Maedhros with a strip of tattered golden ribbon he'd found in his room. Maedhros stood in a flurry of motion and Maglor jumped up, for a moment frightened of what his brother's response would be to seeing the ribbon. But Maedhros just sunk to the floor in front of Elrond, running his fingertips along the fabric.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, voice so quiet Elrond barely heard him.

"Under Elros's bed," he said, and Maedhros squeezed his eyes shut. Maglor appeared behind him, resting a hand Elrond guessed was meant for comfort on his shoulder. To Elrond's great surprise, Maedhros hung his head and curled his body just slightly around the ribbon that he gripped tight and held to his chest. He watched, stunned, as for the first and only time ever, he saw Maedhros cry.

Elrond, that evening when Maglor was putting the twins to bed, asked him if Maedhros would be alright. Maglor brushed a hand over Elrond's forehead, looking down at him with a sad smile. "In time, I think, he will be okay," Maglor told him, sounding slightly unconvinced. "Someone he loved dearly was killed in the battle with the dragon."

"You mean that story you told us was true?" Elrond asked, blinking in mild surprise. Maglor nodded.

"The dragon slew the great king. Fingon the Vailant, Maitimo called him. I doubt he'll love someone like that again."

 

By the time Elrond left the care of Maglor and Maedhros, he had reached a conclusion on the elder. Maedhros was dying, slowly being wilted away by time and the relentless battering of memories that haunted him like ghosts. It was of Elrond's belief that Maedhros was ever so slowly becoming one of those memory ghosts, flickering in and out of the corner of Elrond's eye until eventually he would disappear, just like the times that which he longed to return to.


End file.
